Throughout the long history of the Caeldor Continent, few organizations had managed to survive the rise and fall of dynasties and the changes brought by countless eras. The Wayfarer’s Covenant was one of them.

Its origins could be traced back thousands of years, to the Age of the Warring Kingdoms. However, during that distant period, the organization was far different from what it was today. It was originally known as the Mercenary Association.

During that era of constant warfare, kingdoms, city-states, and lords of all sizes fought against one another. To strengthen their forces and meet the demands of countless conflicts, mercenaries gradually became an undeniable force across the continent.

As their numbers continued to grow, the need to regulate contracts, manage commissions, and establish rules between employers and mercenaries became increasingly important. These efforts eventually led to the creation of the Mercenary Association, an organization that brought structure and order to the once scattered mercenary groups.

However, after the establishment of the Varel Empire, the continent gradually moved toward unity. The military contracts that had once sustained the Mercenary Association began to decline, while trade expanded, exploration of hidden regions increased, and communication between different races became more frequent.

People began to seek a different kind of organization—one that represented no nation and acted only according to the terms of its contracts.

To adapt to the changes of the new era, the Mercenary Association gradually expanded its responsibilities and eventually transformed into what was known as the Wayfarer’s Covenant.

Although its name and duties had changed, the principles of contracts and neutrality remained unchanged.

The Wayfarer’s Covenant belonged to no empire, kingdom, or race. It existed beyond the interests of any nation and followed only the principles it had upheld for thousands of years.

The organization was led by a single Covenant Master, while each region had its own administrators responsible for local affairs. Although it possessed a complete management structure, the Wayfarer’s Covenant controlled neither territories nor armies.

Its structure remained independent and flexible, allowing Wayfarers across the continent to accept commissions freely while still being bound by the principles of the Wayfarer Charter.

To ensure that contracts were fulfilled and to prevent both Wayfarers and employers from violating their agreements, the Wayfarer’s Covenant established a special division known as the Charter Office.

Those who served within this division were called Charter Keepers.

That night, the sea was unusually calm.

Moonlight passed through the thin clouds and spread across the surface of the ocean, forming a silver path that stretched toward the distant horizon. A cool sea breeze carried the scent of salt through the night air, occasionally disturbing the water with small ripples before everything returned to silence.

Only in the far north, where the sea met the sky, were heavy clouds silently gathering.

They rose like a slowly forming wall, gradually swallowing the last traces of starlight beyond the horizon. There was no thunder and no lightning. The clouds simply remained in the darkness, as if waiting for something.

A long figure swept low across the surface of the sea.

To be precise, it was not human, but a Wyrm Serpent covered in deep blue-green scales. Its long body moved gently with the currents, while its broad wings produced almost no sound.

Rather than constantly beating its wings, it relied on the sea winds beneath it, gliding through the darkness like an arrow released from a bow. The young man riding on its back lowered himself slightly as they continued toward the northeastern waters beyond the village.

Two days earlier, Ryan had completed the Wayfarer’s Covenant’s rank evaluation in Everen and officially advanced from a C-Rank to a B-Rank Wayfarer.

The C-Rank insignia that had accompanied him for two years was replaced with a new B-Rank insignia, personally presented to him by a Covenant administrator.

The Wayfarer’s Covenant had always followed the oldest ranking system on the continent. Beginning with the lowest F-Rank, Wayfarers could gradually advance through E-Rank, D-Rank, C-Rank, B-Rank, and A-Rank, until reaching the highest level: S-Rank.

Rank did not represent status or identity. Instead, it was the result of the Covenant’s evaluation, based on the number of commissions a Wayfarer had completed, the difficulty of those commissions, and the results they achieved.

The higher the rank, the more dangerous the commissions a Wayfarer could accept, and the greater the rewards they could receive.

For employers, a Wayfarer’s rank represented a measure of reliability. At the very least, it meant that the Covenant believed this individual possessed the ability to complete the commission.

Of course, it was only a belief.

Every true Wayfarer understood that no commission could ever guarantee absolute safety.

The young man’s name was Ryan Aster. At twenty-six years old, he had already spent ten years walking the path of a Wayfarer.

After leaving his hometown at the age of sixteen, he passed the Wayfarer’s Covenant certification and became a true Wayfarer. Over the following decade, his journey had taken him from simple tasks such as carrying supplies for merchant caravans and patrolling villages, to escorting caravans across mountains and investigating ancient ruins.

Now, as a B-Rank Wayfarer, the records of his achievements within the Covenant archives had already filled several thick volumes.

However, in the occupation field of his records, he was not registered as a Knight.Instead, his profession was listed as:

Rune Swordsman.

Ryan and his Wyrm Serpent continued flying northeast for an entire day. It was not until the second night that the storm clouds finally appeared before them.

The Wyrm Serpent suddenly raised its head, its narrow pupils fixed upon the distant horizon. Ryan followed its movement and looked toward the northern sea. The dark clouds had drawn closer than before.

He reached out and gently patted the creature’s long neck.

"Don’t rush."

The Wyrm Serpent seemed to sense his command. It moved its tail slightly and lowered its flight even further, almost skimming across the surface of the sea.

Its broad wings folded slightly as it used the incoming wind to glide forward. After traveling silently for a short distance, it suddenly beat its wings once, causing its speed to increase sharply. Two long white trails appeared across the surface of the sea beneath them before quickly disappearing into the darkness.

Ryan lifted his gaze toward the north.

The distant clouds had already merged into a single mass, resembling a silent wall stretching between the sea and sky. The cold in the air had grown stronger than when they first departed from the shore, and the wind rushing toward them carried an unusual damp chill.

The Wyrm Serpent slowly turned its head and raised its snout, as if sensing subtle changes in the currents ahead. A low hiss escaped from its throat as it slightly folded its wings and continued gliding forward with the sea wind.

Watching the horizon grow darker, Ryan let out a quiet sigh.

"If that old man at home finds out that I came all the way to the North Sea in the middle of the night again..."

He paused, and a helpless smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"He'll probably say that our ancestors fought so hard to secure the family's noble title, only for me to ignore it and spend my days wandering around in the cold wind."

The sea breeze carried the rest of his words away into the night.

Ryan simply tightened his cloak and lowered his body once again. He lightly tapped the scales behind the Wyrm Serpent’s neck twice with his fingers.

The Wyrm Serpent immediately sensed the signal. Its long body sank slightly, and its wing membranes adjusted their angle as it used the incoming currents to glide forward at greater speed.

Its movement became faster, yet it remained almost completely silent, barely disturbing the surface of the sea.

The cold wind grew stronger, and the dark clouds ahead continued to approach.

Ryan’s eyes remained fixed on the northeastern horizon, where the distant sea had already been swallowed by darkness. It felt as though something was hidden beyond the storm, waiting silently.

The Wyrm Serpent continued flying northeast. As the distance between them and the storm continued to shorten, the black wall of clouds that had once rested at the edge of the sky finally revealed its true appearance.

It could no longer be described as a simple cloud formation.

Layer upon layer of dark clouds rose from the sea like a black mountain range stretching between heaven and earth. They rolled slowly and heavily, covering the horizon with an oppressive presence.

Deep within the clouds, pale flashes of lightning occasionally moved silently through the darkness. For a brief moment, they illuminated the endless sea of clouds before disappearing again.

The thunder had not yet reached them, yet the air was already heavy enough to make breathing difficult.

The wind ahead grew colder.

Ryan pulled his cloak closer around himself, but his eyes never left the storm ahead. The Wyrm Serpent seemed to sense the change as well, and its speed gradually slowed as its narrow pupils continued scanning the ocean below.

Low hissing sounds occasionally escaped from its throat.After flying forward for another hundred breaths, Ryan suddenly frowned.The sea had changed.

The waves that had once moved gently beneath the night wind were now covered with a thin layer of ice crystals. They floated across the surface like scattered silver dust, breaking apart and gathering again with every movement of the waves, reflecting a cold glow beneath the moonlight.

The farther they traveled, the more ice crystals appeared. On some calmer sections of the sea, a transparent layer of ice had already begun to form, rising and falling with the waves while producing faint cracking sounds.

Ryan slowly extended his hand.The freezing wind passed over his palm, and the temperature was far lower than it should have been. He looked toward the night sky, then lowered his gaze to the ocean beneath him. A trace of confusion finally appeared in his eyes.

"Something's wrong..."

The North Sea was certainly cold, but this was still the open ocean. Even if a cold current had moved southward, it should not have caused such a large area of the sea to freeze within such a short period of time.

More importantly, the cold did not seem to be descending from the sky.It was spreading outward from the storm ahead.Ryan said nothing more.

He gently patted the Wyrm Serpent’s long neck, and the creature immediately understood. It drew its wings slightly backward and lowered its body, using the incoming currents to glide forward at remarkable speed.

Moments later, its wing membranes suddenly expanded. With a powerful beat of its wings, a violent gust swept around them, and their speed increased once again as they rushed directly toward the towering wall of black clouds.

Ryan’s gaze became sharper.The strange cold ahead should have warned him away, yet Ryan found himself even more determined to uncover what was hidden within the storm.As the Wyrm Serpent entered the edge of the storm, the world around them suddenly changed.

The freezing wind struck like countless tiny needles, hitting Ryan’s cloak and armor with a continuous and delicate sound. The sky had already been completely covered by thick clouds, blocking all moonlight from reaching the sea below.

Only the occasional pale flash of lightning moving through the clouds illuminated the ocean for a brief moment.

The Wyrm Serpent slightly folded its wings and lowered its flight once again.

Ryan leaned forward, using the swirling mist and ice particles carried by the wind to conceal his presence. The Wyrm Serpent did not recklessly beat its wings. Instead, it relied on the constantly changing currents to move forward, its long body almost blending into the dark sea and sky.

Not long after, a faint light appeared from deep within the snow and storm.More lights followed soon after.

At first, those lights were scattered and unclear, but as the distance shortened, more and more appeared until they finally connected across the dark ocean, illuminating the entire area.

Ryan’s expression changed.Those were not the lights of fishing boats.They were the lights of a fleet.

Dozens of warships were stationed deep within the storm. The ships were arranged at measured intervals, spreading across the sea and forming a massive curved formation.

Soldiers moved constantly across the decks. Some carried weapons and supplies, some guided warhorses, while others stood beside the ship rails and winches, continuously sending signals toward the front.

The sea ahead of the fleet had already completely frozen.

The ice extended deep into the storm, and unlike ordinary newly frozen seawater covered with cracks and floating fragments, this frozen surface was smooth and solid, resembling a newly formed frozen plain.

Large numbers of black-armored soldiers were rapidly gathering across the ice. Most were lightly equipped infantry carrying short weapons, round shields, and light bows, while more cavalry continued stepping onto the frozen surface.

Through the snow and wind, Ryan could not see every detail of the horses, yet he quickly noticed something unusual.

Facing the thunderous roar surrounding them, the warhorses showed almost no signs of fear. Their movements remained steady and controlled.

Thick leather coverings appeared to protect their necks and ears, rising and falling slightly as they moved, shielding them from the thunder.

What concerned Ryan even more was the way they moved across the ice.Their hooves did not slip as ordinary horses would. Each step firmly gripped the frozen surface, producing a short and heavy sound.Ryan narrowed his eyes.

Equipment like this was usually prepared only by cavalry that had spent years fighting across frozen lands. Specialized cold-resistant gear, ear guards designed to shield them from thunder, and reinforced horseshoes capable of gripping ice were not things that could be prepared in a short time.

The more he thought about it, the more serious his expression became.

"A military force..."

Ryan’s expression darkened as the Wyrm Serpent continued gliding along the outer edge of the storm. It stayed as low as possible, avoiding the lights from the ships and the attention of the soldiers below.

As they moved closer, Ryan quickly realized that the fleet beneath them was not the only thing that made the situation alarming. The sky above the storm was equally unsettling.

High above the center of the storm, figures hovered beneath the dark and turbulent clouds. They wore long robes and held staffs in their hands, their bodies moving slightly with the violent winds around them while deep and steady chants echoed through the sky.

Ryan carefully scanned the entire area above the fleet and soon realized that the number of spellcasters was far greater than he had first expected. Dozens of mages were positioned above the ships, with some rising from the decks into the sky while others returned after exhausting their magical energy. They had clearly maintained the spell formation for a long time, relying on a strict rotation to preserve a magical ritual of such scale.

At the center of the formation stood three elderly mages with white hair and beards, each positioned around one of the three connected magic circles. Frost had already covered their robes, and beneath the staffs they held high, enormous ice-blue magic circles slowly unfolded. The three formations were connected together, with countless complex runes rotating along their edges like three massive gears locked into one another.

Countless Ice Elementals moved around the three elderly mages. Some appeared like transparent butterflies, while others existed only as faint clusters of cold light. They traveled between the magic circles and the clouds, leaving thin traces of frost wherever they passed.

Three aged voices echoed through the storm. Their incantation was slow and heavy, with each syllable separated by long pauses. The ancient words carried a solemn weight, as though this ritual had been passed down through countless generations.

"Frost that sleeps beneath the endless northern night, awaken according to the ancient covenant..."

"Let the rushing tides forget their return, and let the restless deep seas fall into silence..."

"With the breath of eternal winter that has never faded, cross mountains, wastelands, and endless seas..."

The remaining words of the incantation were torn apart by the violent winds and scattered into the clouds.

Ryan’s expression changed. Although he was not a mage himself, his knowledge as a Rune Swordsman allowed him to understand the structure of high-level spells and the principles hidden within magical chants. From the fragments of the incantation, the three connected magic circles, and the expanding field of ice surrounding the fleet, he had already identified the spell.

It was an Ice Forbidden Spell known as Eternal Frost.

Centered around the casters, the spell created an enormous field of ice and snow that continuously drained heat from everything within its range. Unless the casters actively defined its boundaries, the seawater, the earth, and even living creatures within the domain would eventually be consumed by the freezing cold. This was not merely a spell designed to defeat an enemy. It was a force capable of changing the climate and landscape of an entire region.

Ryan slowly exhaled a cloud of white mist, yet his gaze remained calm. He lowered his eyes toward his left hand, where the ring set with a crimson gemstone released a faint warmth that pushed back the cold gradually entering his body.

A Forbidden Spell of this scale could never be completed in a short period of time. Even under the guidance of an Archmage, it required several days of continuous chanting and accumulated magical power. A single unstable rune or a brief interruption in the incantation could cause the entire formation to collapse. The dozens of mages constantly moving between the ships and the sky were maintaining the ritual through careful rotation.

At the center of the three magic circles stood three Ice Archmages. Their chanting never stopped, and the three ice-blue formations continued expanding slowly. Large amounts of ice crystals drifted down from the clouds, but instead of becoming hail, they merged into the seawater the moment they touched the surface. The frost spread outward at a visible speed, causing the tips of the waves to lose their movement first, followed by the surrounding sea. The ice continued advancing layer by layer, covering old cracks beneath it and producing deep, continuous sounds of breaking ice. Together, those sounds resembled something enormous slowly moving beneath the frozen ocean.

Outside the edge of the storm, three Master Wind Mages continued holding their staffs high. The winds around them spiraled violently, forming enormous barriers of air that stretched upward into the sky. The clouds were forcibly drawn together, and countless fragments of ice, mist, and snow were pulled into the storm, completely concealing the fleet and the frozen sea below.

On the other side of the formation, three Master Lightning Mages wearing silver-white robes continued casting their spells. Lightning crossed between their raised staffs before rushing into the dark clouds above. One thunderbolt after another erupted within the storm, and the deafening roar covered the sounds of the expanding ice, the movement of the frozen sea, and the constant cracking beneath it.

The remaining Adept Mages were scattered beyond the three layers of the formation. Ice Mages continued supplying the cold energy required to maintain the frozen domain, while Wind Mages preserved the boundaries of the storm and a small number of Lightning Mages continuously transferred their magical power into the thunderclouds above.

Every mage moved according to a precise arrangement. Their positions, timing, and responsibilities were clearly defined, showing that this was not a force assembled at the last moment, but a carefully prepared operation.

Only then did Ryan finally understand the true purpose of the storm.It was not a natural disaster caused by a sudden cold current. The storm was a deliberate cover, created to hide both movement and sound beneath the snow, wind, and thunder.

The true objective was to freeze this distant sea into a vast field of ice, creating a path that would allow a large army to advance without being discovered.Ryan slowly tightened his grip on the reins.

Three Archmages.

Several Master Mages.

Dozens of warships.

And tens of thousands of lightly equipped soldiers already standing upon the ice, ready to move at any moment.An operation of this scale could never be intended for the attack of an ordinary coastal village.

Ryan lightly touched the scales beside the Wyrm Serpent’s neck, signaling it not to beat its wings.

The creature adjusted the angle of its wing membranes and silently moved through the chaotic currents toward the rear of the fleet.

They needed to get closer.At the very least, Ryan needed to see the flags on those warships clearly.However, just as the Wyrm Serpent was about to pass through a layer of low clouds, a shadow on the frozen surface below suddenly moved.

Several enormous sea spiders that had remained close to the ice, almost blending completely into the darkness, raised their front legs at the same time. Their wide claws firmly gripped the frozen surface, while armored riders sat upon their backs.

Beneath their helmets, their gazes turned toward the sky.The leading rider suddenly raised a horn.A deep and urgent warning sound tore through the storm.

"Uu—"

The Sea Spider Knight patrol had discovered the unexpected visitor.